


I'll Be Around (I'll Be Loving You Always)

by awwcoffeenooooo



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Accidental Relationship, Angst, Best Friends, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Unexpected Pregnancy, more cheesy tags, sparse updates whenever I get inspiration
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2018-09-03 12:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8713561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awwcoffeenooooo/pseuds/awwcoffeenooooo
Summary: "I - I never had a dad. I don't know how to do you right, Jems. How to raise this kid, how to act. I want to do this, but I just . . . I don't know how to be a dad."
Jemma sat up lightly, winding her arms around his neck and ducking her forehead into the dip of his shoulder and neck. "And I don't know how to be a mum," she whispered. "But I know we're going to figure this out. FitzSimmons, right?"
He chuckled softly, tears finally breaking through. "Yeah,"





	1. I'll Stick Around

**Author's Note:**

> A bit of a tie in to my other fic - The Best Friends. Expanding from the night onward - because I need to write some kinda fluffy pregnant FitzSimmons :) 
> 
> It can be read as a standalone :)
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Fitz sighed, setting down his fork and watching as Jemma once again sprinted from their breakfast table and into the restroom. 

It had been happening more and more often lately. But no matter his inner suspicions, Jemma insisted it was just the bug that seemed to be attacking every member of the Sci-Ops population. Something about the cafeteria food, but she knew as well as him that neither of them had set foot in there since their second week - well over two years ago by now. 

Fitz slid back his chair, following after her to the open door. She was on her knees once he arrived, retching pitifully into the toilet bowl. 

Swallowing down his nausea at the both the sight, smell, and sound, he bent down and gingerly pulled her long hair back behind her head. He slipped a hair tie off his wrist, as had become his ritual, and tied her locks back in a sloppy bun. 

Jemma was mostly dry heaving by now, so he thought it safe to wet a cloth. 

She took it gratefully, leaning back against the cool bathroom tile and sucking in breaths. She offered him a weary smile. 

"Nasty bugger, isn't it?" She waved breezily. "I only hope you aren't unlucky enough to come down with it. You know, Sandy from communications caught it last week, and she's still -"

"Jemma," Fitz broke in quietly. "You know as well as I do I can't get sick from this."

Her brow furrowed, but Fitz saw right through her. "What do you mean, Fitz? It's just a stomach bug, nothing to worry about."

Fitz shook his head, eyes heavy. "It's - it's not that, Jems. You know it too,"

Her bottom lip slipped between her teeth. "I don't think you know what you're -"

"Are you pregnant?"

His eyes are moist, serious but hurting, and she can tell that she's ripping apart whatever is left between them. Friendship or not, it's all going down the drain with what she's about to say next, and they both know it. 

"I don't know," she all but whispers, her hand slipping into his. Her voice is cracked with fear and uncertainty, and it's only now as he dares to glance at her that he really sees the shadows beneath her lashes and the dullness in her eyes. 

They stay like that, arms pressed against each other, backs to the bathroom tile, hands intertwined. Neither of them know what to do next, neither knows what to say, but before he can stop himself, the words are tumbling from his lips. 

"Is it mine?" 

It's almost a whisper, but in the silence it's a gunshot, and that's all it takes for Jemma turn her head into his shoulder and stifle a sob. 

That's all the proof he needs, and without hesitation he lifts her gently into his lap, pulling her closer, and presses a kiss into her hair. 

He wishes the night could fall back into his mind, but it won't. All he can recall is the few waking moments of soft, bare skin against his before she's lurching out of his bed and gathering the clothes that they'd apparently pulled off each other in the night. That's all he can remember, all he can pull from the deepest depths of his mind. 

His first time, being with Jemma, the creation of his child . . . He couldn't remember a damn thing. 

"I did a test," Jemma rasped out beneath his chin. "In the lab, yesterday. Blood work, but I think I did it right. And if I did . . . Oh, God, Fitz,"

A quivering hand moved to cradle her flat belly, her chest heaving but no sound escaping her. She was trying to be strong, he realized. She was trying to hold in every emotion she'd kept bottled up for the past twenty four hours, and who knows how long before that. 

"I don't, don't want to be callous," he mumbled into her hair. "But do you - do you want to keep it?"

"Yes," 

She answers without hesitation, a fierceness to her words. Belatedly, he remembers Jemma saying so long ago that she wasn't meant to be an only child. Of course she wouldn't see fit to eliminate something that hasn't had the chance to live yet. Especially not after having come so close to having a sibling and losing it before that dream ever began. 

"Okay." He kissed her crown again, carefully, scared to have her push him away. "We're going to be okay, yeah?"

She sniffled, her thumb still pressed tightly to where a tiny organism had taken root. "You'll - You'll stay?"

"Stay?" His voice cracked. "Jemma, pregnant or no, I'd follow you anywhere." He holds her just a bit closer, inhaling the vanilla lavender of her shampoo. "If you'll have me, that is,"

She laughed slightly, a few spare syllables, before snugging herself deeper into his hold. "I suppose we've already had each other." She whispered. "Funny, we haven't even kissed since the eighth grade, and yet here we are."

He quirks a smile. "I think we did that and more, Jems."

Fitz can't make out her face, but he knows she's grinning. Softly, bitterly, but she's smiling. 

He strokes her back, ignoring the fact that they need to get to class, and just exists. Perhaps he's dreamed of this, Jemma telling him they're starting a family, even if not in this context. Maybe he imagined falling in love together first. It was too late for him, but for her . . .

He brushes the memory away before he can feel his hope surface. She's . . . She's still Jemma. Only now they'd gone and gotten drunk, and now she was carrying his baby. 

_God, she's my best friend. And she's got my child in her._

Crude? Perhaps. But the more he broke it down, the fact that they had done this together, even with the alcohol . . . He felt ripped apart and whole all at once. 

Because they had seven and a half months to figure out what the hell they were doing before the world got a tiny bit bigger. Before his personal universe exploded, before a human half him and half his best friend stared up at them. 

Before Jemma became a mother. 

Before he became a father. 

"I'm going to be a da,'" he murmured, eyes fluttering shut. "We're going to have a tiny lil' one running about to teach the world to,"

Jemma's chest shuddered with her breathing. "I'm not ready."

He smiled through the tears threatening. "Neither am I, Jems. But we'll figure it out, yeah? FitzSimmons. We've invented machines that can smell, surely we can raise a babe,"

"Yeah," Jemma agreed meekly, quieting. 

He stroked a hand through her hair lightly, marveling at the fact he wasn't holding just Jemma, but their child as well. 

He felt a rush of guilt. It was his bloody fault, all of this. If he hadn't been too drunk to reach his wallet, to grab that silver packet. If he'd had  the state of mind to just  _stop._

"Did I hurt you?" He whispered. "I . . . I didn't assault you, did I?"

Jemma laughed bitterly. "Oh, Fitz. I may not have consented under the best terms, but I'm sure those bites on your neck proved enough." She shifted slightly in his arms, taking in a deep breath. "I . . . I didn't ask for this. I never have. But for my first time to be you . . ."

Her hand slipped up his bicep soothingly before coming to lie on her stomach. ". . . and, Fitz - there's no one is rather be doing this with. You know that, right?"

He pulled in a breath. "I - I never had a dad. I don't know how to do you right, Jems. How to raise this kid, how to act. I want to do this, but I just . . . I don't know how to be a dad."

Jemma sat up lightly, winding her arms around his neck and ducking her forehead into the dip of his shoulder and neck. "And I don't know how to be a mum," she whispered. "But I know we're going to figure this out. FitzSimmons, right?"

He chuckled softly, tears finally breaking through. "Yeah,"

 


	2. I'm Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all SO much for the lovely comments last chapter! Here you are with the next piece :)

They had a list.

Of course they would - Jemma wasn't one to half arse anything. Her index cards were neatly printed, alphabetized, and slotted into a holder. And when that wasn't enough, she tore pages out of a binder from last semester and used that. Fitz watched with a mixture of something akin to excitement and a large dose of trepidation.

Less than a day ago they had been flat mates, but now he was preparing cups of decaffeinated tea for his pregnant best friend - who he may or may not be in love with. It was all rather blurred, but the moment he sat next to her on the couch and she laid her head on his shoulder, it was if everything burst into reality.

He was going to be a father to their child. Jemma, his best friend since first grade, was carrying their baby, and here she was next to him reading pregnancy blogs and booklets.

Jemma, with her quirks and intelligence. With her soft caramel brown locks and dusting of tiny freckles like stars across her cheeks. Who had been beside him through thick and thin, asked him to be her first kiss, to hold hands with her on the playground so long ago. Who had once been the little girl dressing up as Peggy Carter every Halloween with him as Steve Rogers.

Whose scent was infectious, eyes soft as she read from her spot on his shoulder, with that perfect curve of her lip so enticing . . .

Fitz swallowed tightly, suddenly overcome with the need to feel her soft hair between his fingers, her mouth against his.

_You'll lose her,_ his mind whispered. _You'll lose the baby - and how would that feel? Knowing that you did the same to your child as your father to you?_

He pulled his gaze from her, glancing down at the tea mug in his lap. The steam wafted up gently before dispersing into nothing.

_Best not to dwell on . . . that_. Fitz decided, trying to push any lingering thoughts of Jemma out of his mind. She was his friend, best friend at that, who just so happened to be the mother-to-be of his child. Their child.

"So I was thinking," he cleared his throat, slightly hating himself for what he was planning to say next. "That . . . There may come a point where . . ." He scratched nervously at his ear before sighing. "When are we going to tell our mums?"

Jemma froze, her pen scratching to a halt in the middle of a note. Slowly, she raised her head to meet his gaze. "You mean - the baby?"

"Yeah," Fitz nodded, biting back a sarcastic remark. _What else would I bloody want to tell them about?_ "I know that you'll want to go home for the - the delivery. Probably stay with your parents for a bit,"

Jemma frowned at him. "I hardly think that'll be necessary. The baby is our priority, not theirs, and I wouldn't dream of putting that strain on them. We'll be just fine here," her face broke a bit of its determination. "But if you don't want us to be here, then I -"

"No!" Fitz startled, causing Jemma to momentarily jump. "No, it's not that at all. I - I want to be there for you, any way you need me. But it's just," he gnawed the inside of his cheek.

At his silence, Jemma gently laid a hand on his arm. "Just what, Fitz?"

"I don't want them to call you things," he whispered. "Thinking you're some easy . . ." His mouth clamped shut firmly, unable to bring himself to say it. "We're some of the brightest minds of our age, Jemma. Can you imagine the disappointment?" He trailed off quietly, watching her grasp on his arm. "You've worked so hard to get here, Jems. I don't want all that pulled out from under you just because I dragged you out to that bar for my birthday. Not because I . . ." Fitz took a deep breath, voice quieting. ". . . I did this to you,"

Jemma's face crumpled. "Oh, Fitz," she whispered, pulling him into a sort of side hug. "I don't know what I ever did to deserve you."

Tentatively, he returned her embrace, resting his cheek against her crown. Her hair still held the traces of vanilla lavender shampoo and something distinctly Jemma. 

"I don't care what they think," she whispered. "I'm - I'm proud to do this, Fitz. After all, our kid will be twice as smart as they are one day,"

Fitz couldn't help but squeeze her a bit harder, Jemma smiling into his warmth, before he suddenly pulled back.

"I - I didn't hurt the babe, did I?" He asked worriedly, eyes flicking across her features. "Or you?"

Jemma couldn't help but dissolve into giggles at his expression, breaking the somber mood from just moments before. "I'm pregnant, Fitz, not made of glass,"

His cheeks flushed. "Oh . . . Um, right. I knew that. I was just - just checking."

Jemma smiled softly up at him, the sloppy bun her hair had been rolled up in letting a few strands loose around her cheeks.

He had half a mind to lean in, but in that instant she popped up, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "I'll - I'll just go make some dinner, then." She flashed him a grin as she scooped up her pens, laptop and notebooks. "Spaghetti alright?"

Fitz shook himself out of his daze, nodding slowly. "Yeah, that's - that's nice."

With one last smile, she vanished into her room to stash her notes.

* * *

 

When Jemma returned to the kitchen, it was to find Fitz glaring banefully down at her grandmother's old cookbook. The counter was spread with spices, boxes of pasta, tomatoes and seemingly every pot and pan they owned.

Jemma hid her chuckle. "Trying to cook there, Fitzy?"

He jumped, fumbling the wooden spoon in his hand. "Oh, I, um . . ." He grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, sort of. Just thought . . ." He shook his head. "Never mind."

"No, really," Jemma smirked playfully, leaning against the doorframe. "Go ahead,"

He scrubbed at the nape of his neck. "I was making dinner for you," he sighed. "I don't want you working while you're . . . You know . . ."

"Pregnant?" Jemma finished for him, fluttering a bit inside at his thoughtfulness. _Not every man is like that,_ a voice like her mother's rang in her head. She pushed it away. "Again, Fitz, I'm pregnant, not disabled. I can do plenty as usual."

He seemed a bit crestfallen, blue eyes returning to the floor. "Right. Sorry. I'll just -"

Jemma caught his arm as he tried to make his escape. Her whiskey eyes caught his softly. "But . . . Perhaps I could use some help?"

* * *

 

Not all things in life go as they're planned. Hardly anything, in fact.

_But just because those times are bitter doesn't mean they have to stay that way,_ Fitz decided. Jemma beamed at him from across the table, twirling pasta onto her fork as she recounted the ideas she had for the baby's room.

Maybe this wasn't what he had expected out of a domestic life with Jemma. Maybe this wasn't the "date" he had hoped for, or the pregnancy he had dreamed.

But he had his best friend, and she had him, and he knew they all were going to be okay in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr - WhenTheSkyeQuakes
> 
> Snapchat - theskyequakes
> 
> Would love a review :)


	3. Home, Places We've Grown

Their days became filled with What To Expect When You're Expecting, countless cups of tea, and warm socks under soft blankets. When they weren't studying or working in the lab, they were in their dorm working on some aspect of their lives that was soon to change dramatically. Any social life they had dipped -save for Daisy and a few other close friends from childhood.

It wasn't the first time they were on their own, and Fitz knew it wouldn't be the last. To be completely honest, he was a bit thankful for it. For one, he hadn't ever been the most social person. And for another, the last thing Jemma needed -or either of them, at that - was someone intruding on their very personal matters.

Which was why, of course, they put off telling their parents for another week and a half.

Fitz's mother would likely be the most understanding, they both decided. But Jemma's parents . . . now that was an entirely different matter. They had always set a high score by their daughter's intelligence, pushing her to be the very best she could be.

But now, at only twenty one and carrying the child of the boy they'd once allowed her to have sleepovers with, there was no doubt in either of their minds that they would be disappointed at best. At worst . . . Fitz was hesitant to broach that outcome.

It left Jemma pacing nervously, her phone tightly clutched in her wringing hands, while Fitz watched solemnly from the couch. Her bottom lip was pulled firmly between her teeth, a sign he'd come to identify as foreboding.

He couldn't blame her. Jemma's parents had always been condescending at best.

"You don't have to do this, you know," Fitz mumbled softly. "It's your choice, isn't it?"

Jemma sighed, pausing her pacing to face him. "And do what? Wait until I'm in labor and the hospital needs an emergency number to call? I'm not sure that way would be much better,"

She flopped onto the couch next to him, her head lolling back onto the cushion. "I think they'd be less angry if I had terminal leukemia."

Fitz hesitantly laid a hand on her elbow. "I'm sure they'll understand, Jems. They're your mum and dad after all - they'll come around."

Physical boundaries had become a bit of a moot point for him. On one hand, she was his best friend. Intimate touches were for significant others - not the antisocial engineer who slept in the next room over. On the other, she was pregnant. They couldn't get much more . . . _involved_ than that.

"I don't know," Jemma blew a few strands of hair out of her eyes. Her hand unfurled to lay gently across his palm on her shoulder. She stroked it gently. "I mean, I'm only about two months along. It's not like it's imminent."

"The longer you wait, the angrier they're going to be," Fitz noted. "I know they're not going to be elated in the first place, but if you ring them up to say you're five months in, they're going to be none too pleased,"

Jemma groaned, her head coming to rest in her hands. "I know that, Fitz. But what if they disown me or something? We've never had the most . . ." She hesitated, finding her words. ". . . loving relationship, but I do still want Christmas dinners with them and the baby,"

A beat passed before her dark eyes dared to meet his. "That's . . . That's alright with you, right? You're the father, I want you to have a say in this,"

Fitz's heart softened, those eyes he had fallen for so long ago gazing up at his own questioningly. _You're the father. I want you to have a say_. How was this fair? He'd knocked her up, and yet here she was telling him she wanted him to have a say in this child's life. His etiquette for this type of situation was tedious at best, but even he knew this wasn't how things typically went.

"Yeah, of course," Fitz smiled softly down at her. "You're doing most of the work here, Jems. I'll go where you go,"

Her lips curled up, her eyes brightening. "Really? You'd do that?"

"'F course," Fitz responded, the tips of his ears reddening. "It's the least I could do, Jemma. Besides," his heart fluttered. "It's my baby too, yeah? You're . . . You're my family now,"

Her face melted, and without a word she flung her arms around his middle. He wrapped his arms around her, and on impulse, dipped his head to peck her on top of her head.

"Baby or no," she whispered. "You'll always be family, Fitz,"

* * *

 

She was still in Fitz's arms when she dialed her parent's number with shaking fingers. Hesitating momentarily at the enter key, Fitz took her free hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She pressed 'enter.'

The mobile rang twice before there was a click as the line connected. Fitz winced at the tightness of her grip.

"Hello?" Came Evelyn Simmons from the other end. "Jemma is that you?"

Jemma swallowed tightly. "Hi, mum,"

"Oh, dear! It's been so long since we've heard from you! Richard, love!" Her voice carried off the receiver. "It's Jemma!"

"Dad's there?" Jemma asked, panicked. Fitz held her just a bit closer.

"Yes," her mother clipped. "Is that a problem? I thought you'd have been excited, seeing as he's hardly ever home when you call,"

"Yeah, of course Mum." she cringed.

Fitz, watching emotions flit across his best friend's face, could make out enough from his end of the receiver to know that Jemma's plan hadn't gone exactly as planned. For one, she was planning to tell only her mother so she could relay the information to her father in a more gentle fashion. That was down the drain now, he supposed.

"Jemma!" Came her father's deep voice. "Long time, love. Too good for us now, I suppose?"

She barked out a high, fake laugh. "No, dad. It's not that,"

"Oh, really then? What is it?"

Jemma winced. "I . . . Have something to tell you all,"

There was a beat of silence. After a moment, her mother's voice chirped out, "Well, out with it then! We're not getting any younger,"

Steeling herself one final time, with one last glance at Fitz, she rushed into the receiver. "I'm pregnant."

There was at least ten seconds of silence before her father let out a nervous laugh. "I believe there's a bit of static, sweetheart. It sounded like you were saying you were . . . Pregnant,"

"I am," Jemma sighed.

Distantly, Fitz thought he caught a stifled curse from her mother. But before he could clarify, her father returned.

"When?" He growled.

He watched the tears pooling in her eyes. "A little over a month and a half ago." She managed. "Fitz and I went out drinking, and one thing led to another -"

"Fitz?" Richard barked. "You mean that boy? The Scot?"

"Yes, dad. Fitz." She swiped away the single tear that escaped her. Sniffling, she continued. "As I'm sure you can tell, this was an accident. But it's _our_ accident, dad. I'm keeping it. _We're_ keeping it."

When no response came, she pulled the mobile from her ear, only to find the call had ended. She stifled a sob into his shoulder, Fitz holding her close and rubbing gentle motions into her back.

"Maybe it was just bad connection," he soothed, though both of them knew it wasn't. "Maybe you should all them back."

She shook her head, taking a few more moments before pulling herself up. Sniffling, accepted the tissue Fitz held out to her.

"No," she choked out, an arm folding protectively over her midsection. "They can be that way. If they don't want to be a part of our lives, that's their choice."

Despite the circumstance, his heart leapt at her words. _Our_. The two of them - soon to be three - against the world. As messed up as things were right now, he couldn't be happier.

But then he saw Jemma, eyes and nose reddened, and he deflated. He did this to her - gotten her pregnant, leading her to sever already shaky ties with her parents. There still wasn't a guarantee that they would call back, and if they did, from the looks of things it wouldn't be anytime soon.

His thoughts were interrupted by Jemma pressing the mobile into his hand. He didn't have to ask what she wanted him to do, already dialing his mum's number.

"Might as well get it all over with at once," she muttered.

Maggie picked up near immediately, voice chiming happily. "Leo Fitz, what have I told you about calls?"

He grinned despite the weight in his stomach. "To do it often. I know, I'm sorry mum."

She chuckled. "Ah well, now rather than never, or however that old saying goes. So, how've you been, my boy?"

"Good, Mum. Really good."

Jemma tipped her head up to face him, a smile playing at her lips. He grinned reassuringly.

"And Jemma?" Maggie asked conversationally. "How's my favorite girl?"

"She's . . ." he took a bracing breath. ". . . Pregnant,"

There was a moment of silence before an indignant squawk came from the device. "She's _what_?"

"Pregnant, mum." Fitz winced, voice lowering. "You know, baby and -"

"I bloody well know what pregnant means, Leopold. How do you think you got here?" She barked, but Fitz knew there was no bite.  _Unlike Jemma's dad_ , a part of his mind chimed. He pushed it away.

Then, quieter, she asked softly. "Are you okay, love?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he blew out a breath. "It's her I'm worried about.

"Oh, Leo," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"'S alright mum," he returned quietly. "I'm going to take care of her, y'know. It'll be okay,"

"You're so brave, my boy," she sighed, her age shining through her words. "Does the father want anything to do with it?"

"I, uh, should hope he should," Fitz winced, letting out a nervous laugh. "Seeing as it's me,"

"Leopold Fitz!" Maggie yelped, and if he weren't so braced for another round of disappointment and chastising, he would have sworn he heard a cackle. "Do you mean to tell me you've been together for God knows how long and never saw fit to tell me?"

"No, mum, it's not like that," Fitz sighed. "We were . . . We were drunk. About two months ago. And I'm sure you know where this is headed," he let out another sigh, feeling Jemma listening attentively from his chest.

There was another moment of silence before Maggie spoke again. "Well, Fitz, I can't say that I'm proud. Going off and getting pissed like that. Thought I'd raised you better." She let out her own sigh. "But I'm here, lad. For you, Jemma and the babe. If you need anything you just call, alright?"

Fitz let out a relieved breath. "Alright, mum. I love you,"

"I love you too, my boy,"

And with that, the call ended, leaving Fitz and Jemma to their thoughts.

 

* * *

 

"I think we're going to be alright," Jemma mused one night, popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

Fitz, massaging her feet in his lap, glanced up from the telly to her schooled features. "Yeah?"

She smiled delicately. "Yeah," brushing the butter from her fingers, she continued. "You're right - my parents will come around. And if I'm not mistaken, your mum sounded rather excited."

He flushed. "Yeah, she was. Always said she wanted little ones running around." He scratched thoughtfully behind his ear. "I'm sure these aren't her ideal circumstances, but she's happy nonetheless."

Jemma shifted around, pulling her feet from his lap so she could instead lean against his shoulder. He grinned, wrapping an arm around her. "I'm glad she is," she whispered.

Their Friday night Doctor Who carried on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too sure about this chap. I tried to take a bit of what we've seen of Jemma's dad in the comics and incorporate it, but I'm still unsure. 
> 
> Would love to hear your thoughts!


	4. I Think We're Alright

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking a bit of a break from the *slight* angst. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

"Jemmaaa," Fitz cooed, causing the aforementioned scientist to turn her head. He was holding up a tiny onesie with monkeys on it, of all things. And they were holding flasks and beakers with a bib that proudly read "Mad Scientist in Training."

She rolled her eyes. "You've got to be kidding me,"

"But it's so cute!" Fitz grinned, flapping a sleeve at her. "Come on, Jems. Please?"

"Oh, I wasn't saying no," she smirked at him, pushing the shopping cart towards him. He looked like a smug child as he dropped the onesie into the cart.

They continued their browsing, Fitz occasionally flashing her outfits that he found to be acceptable (which, privately, she thought all matched his own current wardrobe) and she herself flipping through various books. Ten minutes later, she finally decided to speak up.

"You know," she started with quiet nonchalance. "You're taking awfully quick to this whole dad-thing,"

She caught a glimpse of him flushing.

"I, um, you know . . ." He scratched nervously behind his ear, sighing finally. "I'm a bit excited, alright?"

Jemma allowed herself a soft smile. "Really?"

He nodded bashfully. "Yeah. I mean, a tiny little thing that's as smart and beautiful as you, and still likes monkeys and food like me." He grinned. "Seems a bit perfect to me,"

Jemma felt herself flush. "You think I'm pretty?"

"I, um," He turned scarlet. "Yeah. Ahm, I'm not blind, Jemma."

She busied herself with flipping through a stroller pamphlet. "Well then, it's a good thing I'm not either. You are rather handsome too, you know,"

Jemma took pride in the way he nervously returned to his browsing, a soft feeling fluttering in her chest.

She stuffed it down as far as she could. Over and over she had to repeat to herself that this was simply attraction - base human instinct. Of course carrying a man's child was going to make said man all the more attractive, and the hormones being released likely weren't helping in that area.

It also didn't help that they hadn't ever quite defined that night. Surely there had to be a good amount of pining on both accounts to have lead to . . . that specific activity. Perhaps Fitz really did look at her as, well, more. He certainly seemed excited enough ar the prospect of raising a child with her. How many college age men could you count that reacted to a pregnancy with elation?

And not just that, but also paying for as much as he could manage. Less than two weeks after finding out, Fitz had worked around the clock to sell his Mouse Hole technology. And now, two and a half months after that night, he'd managed to find a buyer who offered a kind sum, and didn't spend a cent of it on himself. Instead, he opened a trust fund for the baby's college, and after ensuring monthly payments would be made, used the remaining money to take care of impending needs. Which brought them to today, shopping for bassinets and strollers, and taking a long detour through the clothing department.

Her mind flashed back to the few boyfriends she'd had before Fitz. None of them would have done such a thing, but Fitz had barely thought twice before making the arrangements. That, truly, was devotion if she'd ever seen it.

_It's for the baby, Jemma. Not you._

She swallowed tersely, eyes drawn to the tiny pile of unisex onesies in the cart. Perhaps it was, she decided. But nonetheless, she could at least pretend it was somewhat for her.

"You don't think this a bit presumptuous of us, do you?" Jemma asked, fingering a pair of small shoes. "Already getting supplies, and I've barely hit my first trimester."

Fitz shrugged unapologetically. "Technically, the obstetrician said you're in your third, even if we know otherwise." he held a knit cap up for her to see. "So, personally, I think this is just getting a head start on things."

Jemma let out a small laugh, watching his blue eyes twinkling with joy at all the baby items collected in their cart. In a loving relationship or not, it was going to be okay, she decided. Fitz wasn't the type to pick up and leave when another girl crossed their path, especially after what his own father had done to him. He would be here, best friend or more.

"I mean, we won't know the gender for at least another two months." Jemma carried on, picking out a few of Fitz's selections from the cart. "If we're getting anything, it has to be unisex."

Fitz frowned as Jemma placed a small dress back on the shelf, followed by a headband. "Okay, Jems," he muttered. "But it's a girl, I'm telling you,"

Jemma scoffed. "Please, Fitz. There's no possible way you can tell,"

"No," he grinned mischievously. "But I have a fifty percent chance of being right."

"And a fifty percent chance of it being a boy." She returned, tilting her chin at him.

"Oh, so you're sure of it being a boy now, are you?"

Jemma crinkled her nose at him. "Maybe. I'm the one carrying it around, after all. I'd know out of the two of us,"

He stuck his tongue out childishly at her, adding a blanket to the cart.

* * *

 

"Oh, my!" crooned the elderly lady at the counter as they unloaded their cart. "Aren't you two just the cutest couple?"

Jemma caught Fitz going beet red to her left, stumbling for a response, but she swiftly laid a hand in his arm. "Thank you," she responded with a quick nod, smiling.

He cast her a questioning glance, but luckily their psychic link seemed to be in working order as he played along. He swooped to press a kiss to her cheek.

The cashier cooed. "And how far along are you, dear? Not too far, I presume,"

"Almost three months now," Jemma smiled politely. "We're just getting a bit of a start on things, you know?"

* * *

 

"Strange, how that woman assumed we were a couple." Fitz mentioned, pushing the cart out to Jemma's Prius. "Everyone seems to, really."

Jemma flushed. "It seems so. I don't quite understand though. We can just be friends, can't we?"

Fitz nodded, beginning to lift their bags into the trunk. "Yeah, o' course. People have kids together all the time. Doesn't mean they're married or something."

Jemma nodded thoughtfully, watching as Fitz closed the trunk and pushed the cart to the corral. He reappeared a moment later, swinging into the passenger seat next to her.

She blew a breath out, mussing the few strands of hair in her eyes. "Everything seems to be changing so fast, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it is," Fitz agreed softly. "But at least we've still got each other, right? The last thing I'd want is for any of this to change,"

Jemma nodded quietly, starting the ignition in silence.

_But it already has._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love to hear your thoughts :)
> 
> Tumblr - WhenTheSkyeQuakes 
> 
> SnapChat - theskyequakes


	5. And As Long As It's Okay With You I Think I'll Stay Right Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit on the short side, but it's filler, so I suppose that's alright. As always, comments are appreciated and requests encouraged! Especially for this fic . . . what would you all like to see???
> 
> {Chapter Title from Colorado Sunrise by 3OH!3}

 

 

Jemma let out a small groan, looking over their apartment's cramped cupboards. Evidently, Fitz had gotten a bit peckish yet again last night. A pack of crisps and a box of biscuits were missing from their usual places, and that wasn't to mention her chocolates.

With a grumble of discontentment, she padded out of the kitchen to flop ungracefully upon the couch. Really, if he's going to go off to class without me, he might as well have left me some crap food.

But still, she couldn't quite bring herself to be too angry at him. He had been working more than a college student ever should to provide for the two - soon to be three - of them. He always made sure she had her laundry done, comfort foods stocked, and at least one book to keep her company on the days such as today, when she didn't feel up to heading to classes.

Fitz had simply nodded before placing a light kiss on her forehead and gathering his things for class after she told his she didn't quite feel up to the day. It was almost subconscious, she thought idly. Like he hadn't thought much of the tiny gesture, yet she was deserving of it. It had been happening more and more often lately, with lingering touches and too friendly kisses and unnecessarily clasped hands. Or perhaps it had always just been that way, she had simply never noticed until there was a bit of both of them growing in her.

Likely just her imagination, she supposed. It wasn't as if Fitz found any of this attractive - morning sickness that wasn't just in the mornings but rather whenever the pest in her womb saw fit,  the weight gain, uncontrollable emotions that left her unable to watch Doctor Who without finding something to cry about.

Not to mention his taking over of tasks that were typically hers. It wasn't that she was unable to complete them (quite the opposite), but rather that he wanted to. She could tell that he simply liked to keep his hands busy, and if that also helped her, then it was just an added bonus.

She sighed a final time, pushing any thoughts of blue eyes and mussed morning curls from her mind as she picked up Fitz's most recent offering in literature.

* * *

 

The moment the keys slid into the lock at around two in the afternoon, Jemma leapt up from her curled up position on the sofa. Though she hadn't quite felt the energy to socialize and study for school, it didn't mean the apartment hadn't been lonely.

Fitz stepped in, shutting the door softly behind him. His eyes lit up at Jemma standing in front of him. "Hi -"

He was cut off as she flung herself at him, pulling him tightly to her. Fitz stumbled but for a split second before returning it, hugging her a bit more gently than she had him. Her hardening midsection was much more pronounced in this position, and despite himself he chuckled at the two of them.

"I take it you missed me?"

"Maybe just a bit." Jemma leaned back on her heels, biting her lip. "But mostly just food,"

Fitz laughed, pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and hung his jacket on its hook.

He stomach rolled slightly as he watched her pad back over to the couch, arms crossed over her stomach. Slowly, the smile slid off his face. It was times like these when the line between being a best friend and being more than that was blurred. Friendly pecks on the cheek or forehead had become easier and easier, and it wasn't as if it was only on his part. She'd leaned up on plenty of movie nights to place a quick kiss on his jawline.

Because that's all it was - friendly. The fact she was pregnant didn't change anything.

_Except it changed everything_ , a bitter part of him murmured. Before that night, they'd been friends. Best friends, of course, regardless of what their colleagues hinted. But now, it wasn't that simple.

Though they'd never said it, best friends hadn't irreversibly linked them for life. They weren't tied to the other in any way outside of companionship, even if they never cared to imagine a life without the other.

But now it wasn't the two of them. There were three of them, one just a tiny bit like himself and a tiny bit like her. It wasn't just the pair of best friends anymore, inseparable but all at once having the option to sever ties. Now, he had a responsibility to his best friend and a child. And he'd be damned if he ever left his son or daughter like his own father had done to him.

Jemma's eyes briefly met his from across the room, seated on the couch, a palm splayed against her baby bump. She bit her lip for a moment before smiling at him, her cheeks shadowed by the strands of hair falling from her bun.

He couldn't help but smile back.

This was his life now - a single apartment with two lonely prodigies, about to step from college to adulthood to parenthood in the next six months. It was all crazy, and moving ever so fast, but he wouldn't change anything about this for the world.

They were together, the two and a half of them, and really, that was all they needed. So what if her parents wouldn't be here? If his mum wasn't elated? If they didn't get second PhDs in the time frame them wanted?

They had each other; and, truly, that was all that FitzSimmons needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? I'd like to know what you'd like to see :)


	6. I Promised Myself I Wouldn't Let You Complete Me

It was the day Jemma reached her second trimester that they had another talk.

It wasn't their usual banter, but rather the heavier sort that had them dragging their feet until the evening when they had to face it. Or, rather, each other.

For the amount of time they spent dreading it, it went rather quickly. None of them went through their usual stuttering, red cheeked personas. It was easier to just brush it out of their way before snuggling up together in front of the TV.

Regardless, they reached their conclusion easily: it was time. Despite having told their parents early, the university as a whole still had no idea of their predicament. With the first part of her pregnancy past them, as well as most of the likelihood for a miscarriage, it was looking to be permanent.

_As if the bags of clothes didn't already confirm that_. Jemma mused, folding yet another onesie away into the drawer. She and Fitz had indeed gotten carried away with buying things; the tiny thing in her womb had enough newborn clothes to suffice for at least the first two months, if not more.

She knew it was foolish to get attached so early, but even in their current state, there was no denying that the two of them were somewhat excited to be parents. Frightened, yes, but all the same anticipating. Jemma had always known she wanted children, and while the circumstances were by no means the best, she had her wish. And with Fitz as the father and also her best friend? Truly, she wouldn't ever want to do this with anyone else. It was a perfectly imperfect situation, and she was somewhat at peace with that.

* * *

 

"I suppose that went as well as expected," Jemma sighed, though she tried to keep her features schooled into a somewhat happy expression.

Fitz winced ever so slightly, but having known him since she was a child, Jemma caught the gesture.

"It's not . . . ideal," she decided, choosing her words carefully as the disappointed face of Agent Weaver flashed through her mind. The door to her office clicked shut behind her. "But we are still in the program, at the very least." she bumped her shoulder into his. "And we still have each other,"

That got a grin out of him - a genuine one at that - and she mirrored the expression. "Yeah. If nothin' else, I've got you,"

"And Bean," Jemma stifled a laugh, biting on her lower lip as she glanced up at him.

He stopped his pace, taking in her glinting eyes and smug expression. "Bean?"

"Well, yes," she flushed. "It seems a bit inhumane to call our baby 'it,' doesn't it?"

Fitz chuckled. "Of all the names, Jems . . ."

Jemma pretended to turn up her nose at him. "Well, I thought it was quite the dignified name."

"We're naming a fetus, not a cat," he grinned playfully, mirroring her previous movement as he gently knocked his shoulder into hers. "I should at least hope we aren't naming it after a legume."

"'Fabaceae' doesn't seem to have quite the same ring to it as bean," Jemma smirked up at him, hooking her arm through his as they stepped out into the sunlight.

He only grinned.

"Come on, Fitz, it's at least a little cute, isn't it?"

He adopted a faux pained expression before finally breaking into a full on smile. "It is. A little bit,"

"It'll grow on you," Jemma patted his hand, grinning smugly at having won their small debate.

"I'm sure it will," he softly smiled down at her in that way she couldn't decipher for but a moment, and then they continued on their walk back to their apartment.

It was a beautiful day, to put it simply. The sun shine lightly through a thin canopy of trees along the concrete path. Chipmunks chattered their way through bushes, bouncing over and around one another. The bushes themselves were a bright joyful green, speckled with tiny pastel blue flowers.

Jemma sighed softly in contentment before breaking her trance. "Netflix tonight, perhaps?"

Fitz was quiet for a moment. "No," he decided, a thoughtful look on his face. "You deserve something nicer, for a change. A break."

Jemma furrowed her brows. "Fitz, there's nothing to take a break from. Really, I'm completely fine with just the telly and -"

He shot her a brief smile. "No, that's not what I mean. What I mean is that we've been a bit . . . Strained, lately, for lack of a better word." He sighed softly, stopping them once more to take both of her hands. "I love this baby with all my heart, alright? That's never gonna change. But I just . . . I want to have my best friend too, yeah? I don't want this baby to take from that,"

Jemma looked up at him, at the filter of the leaves casting shifting shadows across his face, and the earnestness in his eyes. _I think I . . ._

"Let's just do something for _us_ tonight, okay?" He spoke before she could complete her thought. "Nothing big, just dinner and perhaps a movie, like the old days?"

She cleared her throat. "Of course." She bit back the ever so slight sting of tears in her eyes. _Damn hormones . . ._

"Let's do it,"

* * *

 

She didn't know what to wear.

Over and over she repeated like a mantra _this isn't a date, this isn't a date_. But it felt like it. The man she was going to raise a child with was taking her to dinner and a movie, as friends.

It felt like a date.

Jemma decided she could pretend. Pretend he would compliment her dress, kiss her as they left out the door, hold her hand on the way to the restaurant, take her to bed when the night is closing in.

It's going to hurt more in the end when none of this happens, she knows, resigning herself as she carefully swipes her mascara brush across her lashes. But it might hurt more to not pretend at all.

* * *

 

Fitz pulls out her chair when they get to the place, and her heart flutters painfully. She pushes it down.

It's not a grand place with chandeliers dripping diamonds, just a small Thai joint they've both come to love, but she feels like it's beautiful nonetheless. And besides, the chandeliers are near nothing to the hundreds of string lights cascading their glow from the ceiling.

His eyes sparkle in the multicolored light, and she offers him a soft smile. "So, what's on the menu tonight?"

* * *

 

They laugh like they haven't in months, falling back into the pattern they'd had as children. Innocent bickering, too long glances, and exaggerated hand gestures.

They seem to mutually agree to avoid talk of their baby, but it's not strained. It's just two best friends, enjoying each other's company.

Jemma thinks that perhaps this is what love is, because while the kissing is great, the feeling of being warm and safe is far better.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The restaurant is most definitely from Matt and Karen's date from Daredevil. I'm not the biggest fan of that ship, but I'd be lying to say that date wasn't absolutely adorable.
> 
> Instagram - WhenTheSkyeQuakes :)
> 
> Perhaps a review?


	7. Your Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was having Goo Goo Dolls vibes, so have a chapter influenced from their song Name ;)

 

"Bean is named Bean no longer!"

Jemma rolled her eyes, though a smile twitched at the corner of her lips. Her hand spread over her lightly rounded belly, she rolled in her desk chair to face him.

"Care to elaborate?" She tapped her pen against the desk, still working Vaughn's lecture questions in her mind.

Fitz triumphantly held up his tablet, his cheeks flushed with excitement. "It says here that at twenty weeks of pregnancy, the baby is about the size of a banana." He waggled his eyebrows. "Do you know what that means, Jemma? Hm?"

"Oh please, do enlighten me," she dryly replied, sipping at the mug of cooling tea she'd prepared. It had taken some time to get used to the decaffeinated brew instead of her regular, but by now she was fairly accustomed.

"They're not a bean anymore, Jems. They're a banana. And bananas equal _monkeys_ ,"

"Ugh, _Fitz_!"

"Think about it! Little Monkey. Has a much better ring to it than Bean."

"I'll have you know Bean was the name of --"

"-- the bloody _cat_ , yes, I know, Jemma. I'm not naming a baby after a creature whose liver spoiled my lunch!"

"Yes, well, you won't have to be calling them by names much longer," Jemma grinned, propping up her knees to settle her notebook against. "My OB says we should be able to tell the gender at my next appointment."

Fitz froze, his tablet still suspended in the air above his bowl of pretzels. "Say what now?"

Jemma let out a small laugh, her cheeks flushing. Avoiding his eyes, she twisted to settle her book back on the desk before turning back to him. "Remember how you weren't able to get out of that lecture for my last appointment? Well, she told me we'd be able to find out the sex next week, and I thought it might be a nice surprise -- Daisy and I had this Pinterest board running with ideas on how to tell you -- but if it's going to save my child from being called monkey, then I might as well just tell you now,"

Fitz gaped, not unlike a fish, for a moment. She could see his mind flitting over various responses all while trying to categorize every word she'd just uttered. "Okay, well, one: monkey is not that bad Jemma -- my mother named me _Leopold_ of all things, it's a bit difficult to beat that. Secondly, since _when_ did you get a bloody Pinterest?! You said, and I quote -- "Ugh, Fitz! That site is for dull stay at home mothers who just so happen to have a good camera and 2.5 kids,"" his voice raised in a clear attempt to mimic her accent, but he didn't need the look on her face to tell him he'd failed miserably.

"Well, I may have been wrong with my initial impression of the site," her cheeks flushed again. "It's actually rather addicting, I must say. They have _everything_ , Fitz! From the Who to organic eating!" She felt a small flicker of pride at the disgust clear on his face at the last bit. "And besides that, I am going to be a mum, you know." Jemma added the last part quietly, her eyes darting down to her hands.

Despite having become a fact that occupied their minds every waking moment, her pregnancy was still a bit rough between them. It was, after all, difficult to imagine her best friend being just that while also being called 'dad.' It also didn't help that she was to be the 'mum,' with no 'wife' or 'girlfriend' thrown in the list of names she'd acquired. It wasn't that she'd ever planned for a traditional date-ring-baby scenario, just not exactly . . . this.

She was startled out of her musings by glancing up to see Fitz moving in front of her. He kneeled in front of her computer chair, taking both of her hands in his. He grinned at her, eyes sparkling.

"Yeah, you're going to be a mum, and a damned good one at that." he nodded, a fierceness to his words. "And I'm proud to be doing this alongside you, alright?"

Her chest tightened at the way he could just _know_ whatever it was she was thinking. So much so she had to refrain from reaching out, tangling into those curls she loved so much, and kissing him senseless.

But the moment was broken by Fitz leaning forward, pressing a quick kiss to the tiny bump beneath her sweater, and then squeezing her hand tightly.

"Would it be quite alright if we skipped the Pinterest ideas?" He asked, a blush creeping up his neck. "Because I'd much rather accompany you to this ultrasound and cry and weep over the miracle we've been given,"

She laughs a bit too hard at his cheesy line, but nonetheless she wraps the still kneeling Fitz in her arms, careful not to spill her tea mug where it's situated between her legs. "God I love you,"

He squeezes her back softly. "I love you too. Both of you,"

She allows herself a small smile. Perhaps it isn't the love she'd like it to be, but it's love nonetheless and that's alright for now.

* * *

 

"Are you almost ready?"

Jemma sighs as much as she can around the bobby pins stuck between her teeth, trying to wrangle her hair into a quick but somewhat elegant bun. Finally getting the hair stuck in place, allowing a few tendrils to fall gently around her face, she nods decisively.

"Yes, almost!" She calls back through the door, resettling her skirt where it rests at knee length, and then pulling a bit of lint from the camisole.

Jemma has never prided herself on being particularly self centered. But now, gaining weight with her baby, she occasionally took more time to get ready. It made her feel a bit nicer about the inevitable stretch marks that would take residence on her sides, and the extra chubbiness on her thighs and arms.

And besides, Fitz may not have any feelings outside of friendship for her, but she could at least try to look nice. For him.

Breathlessly, she breathed against the butterflies in her stomach, and plucked her clutch from the edge of the sink.

Fitz was sitting on the edge of the couch when she exited the bathroom, and she could tell from his tight posture and restlessly tapping foot he was nervous. His head darted up, and his tapping froze.

"Is . . . Is everything alright?" she asked nervously at his expression. Jemma toyed a moment with the rose necklace he'd made for her, before nervously patting down her skirt once more. "I feel a bit silly, all dressed up like this," she added quietly, her chest deflating. She'd made him nervous, the complete opposite of what she'd anticipated.

"No, no!" he burst out, a bit louder than he'd likely meant to judging by the red tips of his ear. "You just . . . You look nice, that's all,"

The breath left her in a rush as her cheeks heated. They'd been doing quite a lot of that lately, come to think of it. "Oh," she managed, puffing out the single syllable from between rounded lips. "Thank you,"

"Yeah, o' course," Fitz shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. A smile ticked at the corner of her lips.

"Well, are you ready then? I don't want to be late to the ultrasound," she offered in an attempt to diffuse the tension.

"Oh, right!" He jumped up, walking quickly to beat her to the door so he could hold it open for her. "Got to find out about lil monkey here. Can't be late for that,"

Jemma stifled a giggle but rolled her eyes. "If it's a girl -- which it's not -- you can call her monkey for a nickname, alright?"

He grinned smugly at her from the driver's seat. "Deal. But it's a girl, so . . ."

Jemma sighed, giving into the need to smile.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update shouldn't be too long -- I already have it all planned out :)
> 
> Tumblr/Instagram -- WhenTheSkyeQuakes


	8. I Promise You This, I'll Always Look Out For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Sparks by Coldplay ;)

 

"I'll be happy with either, you know," Fitz said softly, keeping his eyes on the road and his hands on the steering wheel, though his fingers tapped restlessly. "Boy or girl. Doesn't matter. I'll love them all the same,"

Jemma smiled, peeking a quick glance over to her friend. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he nodded, flipping on the blinkers. She could see his own lips starting to turn up in a nervous half smile.

He was happy, she could tell. It didn't take much to, but this -- this was different. It wasn't the loud bright excitement from solving a problem in the lab. It wasn't the burst of happiness from a good score. It was the quiet barely concealed joy that came with knowing that their baby wasn't an abstract concept anymore. In a short hour, they would know if they were going to have a little boy or girl to love and hold and teach the world to.

It was both overwhelmingly joyful and stomach turning.

Jemma turned her attention to out the window as the radio played softly in the air between them.

* * *

 

"I will be happy, really,"

Jemma resisted to urge to pull an "ugh, Fitz." It was the third time he'd restated that he would be happy with either gender, or even if the baby one day decided they didn't want to be either. But it was still too soon for that, so gently, she placed her left hand on his knee. He foot stalled in its tapping, though his fingers continued.

"Fitz, I know," she spoke lightly, a half smile quirked up at him. "I'll love them no matter what, too,"

He blew out a restless sigh, slumping back further in his seat so his back was nearly bent. "I'm just . . ."

Jemma's brow worriedly furrowed as the took in his blue eyes, clouded with his own worry and a thin sheen of tears. She reached instinctively for his hand and gave it a firm squeeze.

"I'm scared," he whispered, biting his lip. Jemma tried not to focus on that.

"Oh, Fitz," she murmured, face falling. She was terrified as well -- but then, who wasn't the first time around in a pregnancy? "It's going to be alright. I'm scared, too. But you've nothing to worry about. He or she is healthy and so am I."

"No, that's um, that's good and all, but that's not what I mean." He blew out a breath, eyes darting nervously around the waiting area of the clinic. "I mean, what if I'm like . . ."

"Jemma Simmons?"

Both of their heads darted up to see the nurse smiling kindly over her clipboard. "We're all ready,"

Fitz blinked twice, clearing his eyes, while Jemma squeezed his hand once more for good measure. Together, they headed towards the doorway.

* * *

 

After the initial exam, Jemma's OB wheeled over the ultrasound cart and connected a few cords to the machine.

Fitz watched all of this with rapt attention, so much so it startled Jemma into a brief fit of laughter. He silenced her with a glare.

"Just making sure it's all safe," he muttered, thumb rubbing over her knuckle.

She stuck her tongue out playfully. "Fitz, it's been used before. I'm sure I'll be perfectly fine -- and so will the baby,"

She rubbed a hand over her belly, shirt pulled up to expose her stretching bump. Fitz hadn't quite seen it like this, or at least recently. His eyes hadn't left it for the first few minutes of her exam, taking in all the changes her body was experiencing from carrying their child.

"To quote the old stereotype -- this might be a bit cold," Sonia, the OB, cautioned with a chuckle. It still didn't stop Jemma from hissing out a breath at the sudden coolness.

"I normally save this for the kids, but does dad want to help spread all this around?" She grinned, nodding towards the dollops of gel.

"Oh, um, yeah I guess," Fitz shrugged, leaning forward before experimentally poking at a portion of it. Both women laughed at the cringing expression on his face.

"Please, Fitz," she laughed, "I know for a fact you've put your hand in much more questionable substances,"

He pouted at her for but a second before spreading the jelly around her bump with a new vigor. Sonia passed him a napkin to wipe the excess off his hand.

"Alright then, let's see if we can find this little one's bits," she lowered the transducer to Jemma's belly, pressing around in some places before pointing up to the monitor. "And there they are,"

Fitz looked up in awe at the tiny being projected onto the screen. "That's inside of you,"

"Yes, they are, Fitz," Jemma murmured softly, eyes beginning to mist. She squeezed his hand even tighter, if possible.

He laughed, a disbelieving sound, and when she was able to tear her eyes from the screen it was to see he, too, was misty eyed.

Sonia quietly grinned at the two of them, carefully adjusting and moving the wand over the bump. Moments later, she let out a small noise of excitement.

"And you're certain you want to know?"

In true FitzSimmons fashion that their professors would be proud of, they both burst out with excited noises of agreement.

Sonia laughed. "Well then, I'm just about certain that's a little girl you two have here."

Fitz let out a wet chuckle at the same time Jemma allowed a tear of joy to snake down her cheek. He leaned forward out of his chair to hold her upper body tightly in some semblance of a hug. Jemma laughed, kissing over his face -- his nose, cheeks, forehead. He settled for a long kiss in her hair, scented as always with a smell that was shampoo and what could only be described as Jemma.

"We're having a little girl, Fitz," she managed, gently pushing him back by the shoulder so she could meet his eyes. She was beaming, her face as flushed with excitement as his own.

He laughed giddily, running a hand over the hair atop her head. "Yeah . . . Yeah,"

* * *

 

Later, when they're seated in the car, Fitz rings his mum and connects her to the Bluetooth feature in his car. Jemma is beside him, a smile that she still hasn't quite managed to drop firmly in place. He'd be lying if he said the same wasn't true for him.

"Hello, Mum," Fitz greets, still grinning ear to ear.

"Oh, my boy! How's Jemma and the baby?"

"Really? My care isn't important anymore now that you've got a grand baby on the way?" He jokingly jabs, ducking to avoid a half hearted swat from Jemma.

"Leo!"

"I'm just joking, Mum. They're both fine, and the same for me. Actually, we have a bit of news for you,"

"Oh? Really?" Comes the answering reply. "It had better not be twins, lad,"

"What? No!" He bursts out, just as Jemma breaks into peals of laughter beside him. "No, it's just . . . We're having a daughter,"

There was a split second of silence before a loud crash came from the car's speakers. Fitz was worried for but a moment before his ears caught the distant excited shouts.

"Ah, that would be Molly," he chuckled to Jemma. "I forgot my mum's dates and all. I believe tonight is book club."

"Oh, Leo, I'm so happy," Maggie gushed when she finally retrieved the phone. "For Jemma too, dear. She must be so pleased,"

"I am, believe me," Jemma chuckled, eyes alight with joy. "So very happy,"

"That's good dear, very good!" She laughed. "Believe me, this little one is going to have the best parents,"

Fitz's eyes left the road to land on Jemma, who was biting her lip and trying to hide a smile. Her eyes were shining, the wind blowing through her hair from the sunroof, and in that moment he understood what it meant to be in love as he'd seen in countless movies.

"Yeah, she is," he responded softly, watching Jemma toy with the necklace he'd made her. "She's gonna be perfect,"

* * *

 

The phone call long ended, the two had unanimously decided to just drive. Jemma couldn't help but feel like the happiest person at the moment. Fitz had put on their playlist, taken her hand, and they'd driven the backroad back to their apartment.

Or at least they were, because at that moment Fitz put on the blinkers and pulled over. Jemma's brow furrowed.

"What's wrong?" She asked, but when he faced her it was with a grin.

"Nothing," he waggled his eyebrows. "Just thought it might be a nice time to take a walk."

Jemma couldn't help but let out a disbelieving laugh. "A walk? Really?"

But Fitz had already exited his side of the car and was now opening her door, so she allowed him to once more take her hand and pull her out.

It was the very ending of fall, and while the weather had recently been hinting cooler temperatures, it was still reasonably warm. Leaves still clung to branches despite having curled, and these blew lightly in the breeze. The sky was full of clouds, and she could pick out a combination of cirrus and cumulus formations. It was lovely, with even the air scented a crisp fall scent.

Fitz led her to a trail leading off into a thin patch of trees, and beyond that she could just barely make out a small stream trickling through the brush.

"I, um, I sort of have a surprise for you," he started, eyes on the forest floor, though his palm still rested in hers. "'S nothing big, but I still thought you might like it,"

She smiled, looking up at him and the way the sunlight slid through his curls and bounced off his cheekbones. _God, I love you_.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he let out a small bit of a laugh at the end, guiding her towards a patch of large rocks above the stream. He climbed up one quickly before again offering his hand and helping her up. It wasn't very far, perhaps two feet above the ground, but she still appreciated the gesture.

"Well, what could ever be so special that we'd walk into the middle of the woods to announce it?" She grinned playfully at him, nudging him with her elbow from her position beside him.

He grinned at her, poking her back in turn with his knee. "Just these," he slid the two objects over to her, and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

"Oh, Fitz," she whispered softly, gently picking up the two. Tickets, each marked with arrival to Glasgow, just a week before Christmas. "You shouldn't have. They're so expensive and --"

"I wanted to," he shrugged, his cheeks lightly coloring. "I mean, I know they're to Glasgow, but that's not that far from Sheffield, only a few hours, and we could just go see everyone,"

The idea of seeing her old home once more both frightened and excited her, but she threw her arms around Fitz. "I'd love to see everyone again. Just . . . One last time before she gets here,"

"I know," he responded, still beaming. "And I also know that you and your parents aren't exactly on the best terms, but we still have my mum and all our friends, and I know we'll be fine,"

"We will be," Jemma smiled, her stomach full of butterflies. "We'll just -- oh!"

Fitz jumped worriedly at the expression she wore, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

Jemma laughed as tears sprang to her eyes. "No, no, nothing's wrong. It's just -- here," she took both of his palms, flattening them to the lower part of her belly. It was but a moment before he felt a series of thumps on his hands, some stronger than others.

"That's the strongest I've felt her move yet," Jemma laughed, tears springing to her eyes at the awestruck expression on his face. "I know I let you feel earlier this week, but now they're -- well, her kicks are so much stronger."

"Oh my god," he whispered, laughing lightly with disbelief. "She's going to be a strong one, yeah?"

Jemma laughed, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. It lasted a moment longer than what she'd peg as friendly. "Yes, yes she is,"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate being that one person, but I receive on average about three reviews per chapter, and I am more than thankful for those three! But my view count typically hits 600 readers per chap, and that's a pretty big ratio. So I'm going to be that one person and say I'm not gonna update until I hit six reviews on this chap. I've done this before, and I got twenty reviews that chapter. So I know you guys can do it!
> 
> In the meantime, I hope you all enjoyed this update. I had fun writing it, so it's always nice to know you enjoyed reading it :)


	9. There's So Many Things I Wish I Could Say

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it took me this long to get this chapter up! It was supposed to be up by Friday, but then some friends and I got to go to a Sleeping With Sirens concert and of COURSE I neglected to put in earplugs so I low-key haven't been able to hear clearly, let alone write. But the buzzing finally stopped, so here we are!!
> 
> Title from All My Heart by Sleeping With Sirens.
> 
> As usual, please enjoy :)

 

 

Their bags are packed and ready, and Jemma flutters about their apartment in the early hours of the morning just to make sure they haven't forgotten anything.

Fitz just laughs, taking their luggage and reminding her that as long as they have their wallets and each other, they'll be just fine.

She scrunches her nose, but follows him out into the dawn all the same.

* * *

 

"You want the window?" Fitz asks, settling their carry-ons into the overhead compartment. Jemma watches from the seat, handing him her bag when he's ready.

"I think I'll take the aisle," she winces, rubbing a hand over her stomach. "Your daughter likes bouncing on my bladder.

Fitz raises an eyebrow at her. "She's only my daughter when she's making you use the loo every forty minutes?"

"Obviously,"

They both grinned, Fitz stepping back so Jemma could step out and allow him space to squeeze into the window seat. She groaned as she finally resettled into the window seat, rubbing at her back. Fitz smiled sympathetically, reaching over to rub and massage her shoulders.

"I swear you're the best," Jemma moaned, leaning her neck back to allow him more working room.

Fitz chuckled. "We'll see how long that one lasts, Miss-superior-in-every-way."

She swatted him playfully, but still leaned into his touch.

It was only a handful of minutes until the plane was taxiing into the runway, and another few from there until it was air born.

Fitz held Jemma's hand until they were at cruising altitude, at which point she was finally able to scramble for the plane's loo.

"Damn gravitational forces. And babies." She muttered, unbuckling her belt and breaking for the back of the plane.

Fitz laughed, to which she glared. So he busied himself with setting up a movie on Jemma's laptop.

A moment later, she was back, and Fitz raised the arm rest between their seats so there was a bit more room.

As he was passing her a set of earbuds, reaching to tap play on _A New Hope_ , her hand caught his.

"I, um, I have something I'd like to talk to you about. First." slowly, Fitz pulled his eyes from her hand to peer into her face. She was nervous, but there was also a bit of hopefulness.

"Yeah? What's wrong?" he asked, ever fearing the worst.

Jemma chuckled. "Nothing, actually. Well, I don't think so anyway,"

He raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips. "How about you tell me and I'll decide?"

"Fitz," she rolled her eyes fondly. "No I just . . . I'm nearly six months along. I sort of . . . I sort of want my baby to have a name,"

Fitz can't help but be struck silent, eyes going blank though his mind turned at a mile a minute.

He'd of course thought of naming their baby. But somehow, it hadn't dawned on him that perhaps they should begin naming their little girl so soon.

It was scary, in all honesty. The little thing they'd created was still very nearly an abstract concept at this point. Aside from the strange domesticity they'd fallen into, and Jemma's ever growing bump, there wasn't very much proof that in three short months they'd be holding a tiny life in their arms.

But to name her, to give her a title . . . that was a whole other ballpark. Would she look like her name? Fit it? Names carried power, after all. This wasn't a Night-Night Gun. They couldn't mess this up.

When he finally started to regain control of his body, it was to find Jemma blinking worriedly at him.

"I . . . I understand if you don't want to name her, Fitz. But I just thought . . . You'd been so excited and --"

"Hey, hey," Fitz hushed her, taking her wrist gently in his hand. "I want to name our lil girl, alrigh?' But it's just . . . That's _big_. Like really big, Jems,"

She swallowed, relief creeping across her face to replace her worry. "Oh. Good. I was . . . I was a tad worried for a moment I'd over stepped. You've just been so supportive and kind through all of this, and you really don't have to be doing any of this."

"Don't have to be--?" Fitz stared at her, awestruck. "Jemma, I would _never_ \-- I don't, I'm not that kind of man. I would _never_ leave you, or our baby, alright? Everything we've been doing these past few months have been of my own free will. No part of this makes me feel obligated. I _want_ to help you -- our little family of sorts -- in any way I can. Alrigh?'"

Jemma had turned a shade of pink at some point during his little speech, and her hand had turned in his grip so she could tighten her fingers around his wrist.

"Oh, Fitz, I _never_ thought that of you," she breathed, seeming embarrassed. "I just . . . There's still some irrational part of me that still fears losing you due to something I've done, or something I overstep. But I've never doubted you, Fitz. Not once,"

Their gazes seem to lock together, his startling blues meeting her warm honey ones. He swears he can feel her breath landing on his face, even from from the generous few inches between them, and unconsciously his tongue darts out to lick at his lips.

The movement pulls Jemma's gaze down to his mouth, and her face slowly starts to tilt down towards his --

"Would either of you like a drink?"

His head snaps back up so hard he swears he may have a case of whiplash, and Jemma blushes a shade deeper as she whirls to face the stewardess.

"Oh, ah, yes please," she chirps, settling back into her usual self. "I'll have a cranberry and -- oh, Fitz, what do you think?"

"Just a Sprite is fine," he somehow manages, voice quiet with a sense of disappointment.

He watches as Jemma passes him a small square napkin to place the plastic cup on, and me maneuvers it around the laptop. The stewardess also leaves them each with a packet of crisps and biscuits, and then she continues to roll her cart down the aisle.

Jemma pops open her bag after happily noting they're low fat, but Fitz is still busy shaking himself back into some semblance of an awake state.

"Anyhow, we were . . . baby names," Jemma lightly bumped his shoulder with hers, and Fitz blinked, taking his soda and downing half of it a swig.

The carbonation tickles enough to give him a new state of alertness. It's almost enough to help him skip over the idea of their almost-kiss, but not quite. He swears the feel of her breath will haunt him til his dying days.

"Yes, baby names," he adds, forcing a smile. "Where do we begin?"

Jemma blushes for the third time that flight, and Fitz quietly smiles at the realization she already has an idea.

"What is it?" He asks, voice teasing.

"Well," she bites her lip, looking a tad guilty. "Do you remember Halloween?"

"Which one?"

Jemma tilts her head a little. "We were in second grade, I believe. I dressed as Peggy, and you dressed as Steve."

"Oh," he chuckles, remembering the night. "Yes, I happen to remember that,"

"You want to name her Margaret, don't you?"

Her carefully schooled grin finally breaks out into a small laugh, and when she finally dates to glance back up to him, hands on her swollen stomach, it's with a smile and a nod. "It's not . . . Silly, is it?"

He can't help but snort. "You are quite literally asking a man named Leopold if a name is terrible."

"Oh, hush!" She chastises, lightly slapping his knee. "I happen to like your name."

"Yes, well, that makes one of us," he retorts playfully. "But in honesty . . . I really do like Margaret. Peggy. That's really . . . Really sweet, y'know?"

Jemma lets out a relieved little breath. "I was hoping you would," she adds, gripping his hand a bit at a small bit of turbulence. "It just . . . Carries meaning, right? Of us, as kids,"

"Yeah," he breathes, smiling. "And . . . And maybe . . ."

Jemma looks up at him, rage and hopeful, and the rest of his words leave him in a rush.

"Perhaps Evelyn? Margaret Evelyn Simmons?"

Jemma's brow furrows a tad, but it's not in confusion or distaste. It's in understanding and sympathy. Fitz, never one for either, looks away.

"After your grandmother?" She asks with that soft voice of hers, and Fitz had to take in a deep breath to control himself.

"I mean, yeah," he replies quietly. "Seems a bit fitting. I, um, I don't know if I'd be here without her,"

Jemma squeezes comfortingly, tight enough so he can feel her pulse bleeding over into his. "That sounds lovely. Margaret Evelyn Fitz,"

His heart feels ripped apart and whole all at once, but it's such a feeling of completeness that eventually wins him over that he can't help but smile.

His hand cautiously slips to Jemma's stomach, feeling all the slight little lumps that could be arms and knees and elbows and a forehead and he smiles.

"Our little Margaret Evelyn,"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it! I really hope you all enjoyed this. It's so much fun getting all of your lovely little comments :) They all mean so much.
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment, or if you have any little moments you'd like to see and request. I don't bite :)
> 
> Tumblr -- WhenTheSkyeQuakes  
> Instagram -- WhenTheSkyeQuakes


	10. We Can't Fall Any Further

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so it wasn't supposed to take me six months to put out a measly chapter, but life had decided to send me into a major depressive episode and it took me awhile to find my muse for this lil thing again. i'm really sorry :(
> 
> i'm not gonna lie, i'm hot and cold on this one alone, but I hope you at least find something worthwhile in it :)
> 
> chapter title from Ordinary Love by U2, a definite jam for me rn.

"It's all rather strange that we were finally able to make it out here," Jemma laughs one night at dinner, clutching the stem of her wine glass. She isn't, of course, able to have anything alcoholic, but that hadn’t stopped Fitz from ensuring they had a bottle of sparkling on hand earlier. 

 

“Yeah,” Fitz grins, lopsided. “I mean, I’d always planned on heading back here, but I have to admit it’s more than a tad strange right now when you’re paying more attention to Jemma’s stomach than myself,”

 

His mum turns an eyebrow on him. “Well excuse me if I’m still a bit shocked that you were able to procreate, lad. Molly said you didn’t have it in you,”

 

“Mum!” Fitz hisses, mortified. 

 

Jemma’s too busy laughing and trying to cover it as a cough, which Fitz has to turn his glare on her. 

 

“Thank you, my rock and support,” he mutters, reaching for his beer dejectedly. His nose crinkles at the taste, and he stands. “I’ll be back,” he mutters, stepping out to the small garage.

 

“You’re both such sweet things,” Maggie sighs when he’s gone, leaning back in her chair. “I’m so happy this little one will be growing up with such loving parents,”

 

Jemma’s lips quirk, a smidge bitter, but optimistic nonetheless. “I feel the same, not to sound prideful or anything. But Fitz will be an amazing father. I just know it,”

 

Maggie smiles, the lines in her face tired but happy. “It’s good he has you. Both of you. I always worried about him, growing up, but so long as you were by his side, he seemed alright. More than alright, now, I suppose,”

 

“Yes,” Jemma sighs, taking another sip of her drink. “He’s my. . .”

She stops short. But what? What was he to her? He wasn’t just a best friend; her feelings went so much deeper than that. More than she’d ever felt for anyone, really. He finished her sentences and held her hand when she felt lonely and always made sure she wasn’t in need of anything. 

 

Jemma swallows tightly. 

 

“He’s my Fitz,” she ends, finally. It sounds weak, even in her own ears. 

 

“Are you alright, dear?” Maggie offers, even though there’s a look of knowing in her eyes. 

 

“Yes, I’m fine,” Jemma returns, sitting up with a hiss through her teeth. She rubs a hand over her swollen stomach. “Just the baby kicking, making me feel a bit nauseous.”

 

Fitz ducks in again, blowing out a chilled breath. “Think you’re outta beer, mum,”

 

He stops when he sees Jemma, a vaguely uncomfortable expression on her face. “Is it the babe again? Causing you trouble?”

 

“Yeah,” Jemma sighs, rubbing at her lower back. “Thought all the cramps and aches were myths, but this lil girl is rapidly proving me wrong,” she chuckles, fighting down the questions and anxiety flying through her mind. 

 

_ He’s my Fitz.  _

 

So why did he feel like so much more than just that?

 

* * *

 

That night, the baby seems to be particularly active, and Jemma reluctantly accepts the fact that sleep is a very long ways off. 

She’s taken up Fitz’s childhood bed, the one the two of them had spent countless hours on doing the most random of things. It was here she’d sat and combed his hair until it was straight enough to look like Captain America’s, where she’d insisted he be the one to put on her red lipstick because she was rubbish at it herself. They’d been so tiny back then. So small and innocent. She still remembers their first kiss, back when she’d asked him so long ago. And that night, his eyes so bright and wide, looking at her in something akin to shock.

 

_ What are we, Jemma? _

 

_ We’re best friends,  _ she’d said.  _ We're best friends who hold hands and kiss and talk about science.  _

 

It’s only now that she wonders if she was wrong. 

 

She can feel her mind beginning to get away from her, the ache in her chest, and she abruptly pushes down the train of thought before her memories can consume her. 

 

It doesn’t matter what she does or doesn’t feel for Fitz. He’s her best friend, and they love each other in the best of ways. That’s all he wants, and that’s all she’ll need. 

 

* * *

 

Two in the morning is a strange time to be awake. It’s almost surreal, in a way. Even Pinterest doesn’t quite hold the same vibes as it had during normal daytime hours, and Jemma puts away her search through various nursery boards to sit up in Fitz’s bed. 

 

Her water glass is empty, a fact she only realizes after groping aimlessly for a good few moments on the end table. 

 

Getting up is a lot more difficult with a six month old pest of love in your womb, she’s found. Nonetheless, she persists, and drags both herself and her glass down the stairs. 

 

Only to find that Fitz, kicked to the couch, is blearily scrolling through his tablet. Jemma can’t help but let out a quiet snort. 

 

“And here I thought I was the only one with baby insomnia,” she whispers, just loud enough to see his eyes blink up at her over his screen. The light emanating from it highlights the exhaustion in his features, and her heart twists. 

 

“I’m not gonna lie,” he sighs. “This damned sofa is made out of something stronger than mum’s fruitcakes,”

 

Jemma can’t help but chuckle, leaning to stretch her back out a bit. “That bad, huh?”

 

He doesn’t reply, instead sitting up and swinging to tug on a lamp’s string. They both blink against the brightness of the bulb, but it leaves Jemma with the opportunity to fill her glass. 

 

Taking a quiet sip, she nods at him and then up the stairs. “Come on,”

 

“What?” he asks, confused. She thinks it’s adorable on him, his curls all stuck up in every direction, scruff coating his jaw. She pushes the thought off as quickly as it’d come. 

 

“You’re not sleeping, neither am I. Might as well be insomniacs together,” a wry grin accompanies her words, and Fitz’s lips quirk up. 

 

“If you’re sure that I wouldn’t be --”

 

“You won’t,” she assures him, knowing that Fitz couldn’t be anything but the most comfortable snuggle partner possible from years of experience. “Now come on. My ankles are hurting and I need to pee,”

 

He follows her up after a moment of hesitation, and when she returns from the loo he’s sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed. 

 

“I didn’t know if you wanted left or right?” he offers, scratching nervously behind an ear. 

 

“Oh,” she blurts, reddening. She hadn’t ever thought of it like that. Sides, and all. It seemed rather domestic. “Right should be fine,” she decides after a moment of hesitation, and makes for what is apparently now ‘her’ side. 

 

They push the covers back, and Jemma all but scoots into her side of the mattress. But no matter how the mounds of pillows that Maggie had provided with them sit, her back still aches terribly. She wonders, somewhat, if it’s a side effect made worse from her scoliosis as a girl.

 

Fitz seems to notice her discomfort immediately. “That bad?”

 

“Yeah,” she sighs, rolling her shoulders. The baby kicks impatiently. 

 

“Here,” Fitz jumps up, opening his arm for her to snuggle into. He shoves an extra pillow to support his lower back, and then guides Jemma back so her weight is split between himself and the mound of pillows she’s already acquired. 

 

“Better?”

 

“Oh, so much so,” she sighs, the pressure somewhat relieved from her aching lower back. “You’re a lifesaver, Fitz,”

 

He chuckles, presses a quick kiss into her hair. “Glad I could be of service.”

 

She hums, guiding his hand to where little Margaret Evelyn is kicking. He rubs the area softly. “Just know that since I’ve now discovered your use as a body pillow, you’re going to be doing it all the time,”

 

He chuckles softly. “I think there are worse things out there,”

 

“Yeah,” she decides, letting her eyes slip shut. His stubble rubs at her temple, and she turns into it like a cat. “Much worse,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is alternatively known as 'how many ways can Leopold James Fitz and Jemma Anne Simmons be so completely romantic without any actual romance?'
> 
> hope you enjoyed, and I'm once again super sorry to have abandoned this for so long. 
> 
> i'm not on tumblr rn except to post fic links, but i'm @awwcoffeenooooo now :)

**Author's Note:**

> Love to hear what you think!


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